A fist ected against a table, rattling the dimly lit room. The force echoed through the hollow space, a sharp crack against the silence. His fingers curled further into a trembling fist, nails digging into his palm as his breath came ragged, seething through gritted teeth.
Vd the Vampire Cardinal. Isaiah, the First Demon Lord’s son.
Two more formidable obstacles had appeared in Wilderwood Mansion. He had watched it all unfold, his gaze fixed on the flickering images before him, his fury growing with each passing sed. He had pnned for many variables, but this—this was an unwele plication.
But he couldn’t back down. No, not when the pn was already in motion.
A slow, bitter smile curled his lips. Bir was still his. The ace hidden up his sleeve, waiting for the right moment to strike. And no o Burn, not Man—knew of his pns to take Lo Inkor and Nahwu Reyrie. His base remained untouched, hidden away in a po one would think to search. And his secret on… yes, it was still intact.
Let them feel secure. Let them think they had the upper hand.
By the time they realized the truth, it would be too te.
Man Le Fay, that cockroach-persistent, wretched woman—he would enjoy watg the light drain from her eyes. Let her struggle, let her fight. It would make her eventual fall all the more satisfying.
Even if they e too close, he had already taken another body. Shift into another skin. Rei himself yet again.
This game was far from over.
***
CLACK! CLACK-CLACK!
A cacophony of wooden swords g against each other rang through the air, mixed with the panicked yelps of three teenage boys fighting for their lives.
"AH!"
"BEHIND YOU!"
"DODGE!"
"DON’T DIEEEE, EVAAAANNN!"
SLAM!
A gust of wi Evan flying back, his wooden sword slipping from his grip as he rolled across the dirt like a ragdoll. Matthew and An, instead of rushing to his aid, took one look at their friend’s limp form and did the smart thing—panicked.
BLAAAAAAST!
“HIEEK!” An shrieked as he swung his on wildly, managing to hit nothing but air.
"AAAAAAAAH!" Matthew followed, swinging in the opposite dire with equal levels of desperation.
Their oppo? her than Mante di Sator—husband, father, and sadist master, judging by how much he was enjoying this.
“Kekekekekeke…”
"Mercy…!" Evan groaned from the ground, dramatically twitg.
"HE’S YOUR SON, SPARE HIM AAAA!" An tried, despite knowing full well that Mante did not believe in favoritism.
BOOM!
The sheer forante’s swi a shockwave, nearly sweeping An and Matthew off their feet. Evan, still rec, flopped onto his back again.
On the sidelines, Vd watched with mild amusement, chug as Nemo, perched on his p, grabbed his wrinkled cheeks with both hands and squished. Her big blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Hohoho, so eic," the old vampire mused, unfazed by the chaos.
Meanwhile, Bir stood frozen, her jaw practically unhinged from watg this absolute sughter unfold before her.
An was barely holding onto his sword, his knees wobbling like a newborn fawn. Matthew looked five seds away from running for his life. And Evan? Poor Evan was still wheezing on the ground, questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment.
And Mante? He hadn't even broken a sweat.
It wasn’t a spar. It was a lesson in despair.
Evan sucked in a sharp breath and rolled to the side just as Mante’s sword smmed down where he had been lying. A gust of wind bsted from the impact, sending dirt flying. Too close.
Matthew and An took this brief opening to attack.
“Go left, I’ll ght!” An suggested with his eyes, cirg behind Mante while Matthew charged head-on. It was a cssicer attack, overwhelming the oppo from two sides.
It might’ve worked. If their oppo had been literally anyone else.
Mante sidestepped effortlessly, kig Matthew leg, making him stumble past him—and right into An, who yelped as their heads collided.
K!
Both crumpled to the ground, groaning—but Evan, seeing his ce, lunged from behind them, atop, with a downward strike aimed at his father’s shoulder.
Mante didn’t even look at him.
CRACK!
He parried with one hand, sending Evan’s sword flying—again.
And then, in a blur, Mante pivoted, grabbed Evan by the front of his shirt, aed him into Matthew and An.
THUD-THUD-THUD!
All three colpsed into a pile of limbs, groaning i aential regret.
Mante exhaled, disappointed. “That athetic.”
Evan raised a trembling hand. “I think… my soul left my body halfway through.”
Matthew wheezed. “Did we… at least st lohan st time?”
Mante hummed, sidering. “Two seds longer.”
An groaned into the dirt. “Kill me.”
“No, no, no!” Vd chortled. “It was a good effort! At least you tried.”
Bir, still horrified, cpped politely. “Yay. You survived.”
Nemo, however, cpped enthusiastically. “AGAIN!”
The boys twitched. No. Never again.
Isaiah flourished his spear, its sharp edge glinting ominously uhe sun. His seven-foot frame loomed over the battered trio like a final boss cutse. “Thee art quite talented. Wilt thou test thy mettle 'gainst a medium-range warrior?”
An, Matthew, and Evan stared up at him, their souls barely hanging on after Mahrashing. “No thanks, Uncle Isaiah!” they blurted in unison, faster than a guilty dog avoiding eye tact.
The atmosphere plummeted. Dark clouds gathered around Isaiah’s massive frame, his already shadowy presence growing even more tragic. The man looked like a seven-foot-tall, medieval goose lizard that had just beeed by its flock.
A sigh—long, mencholic, honking in its depth—escaped his lips. No oually heard the honk, but they felt it deep in their souls.
The kids winced. Sure, Isaiah was terrifyingly massive and wielded a spear that could probably impale an elephant, but deep down… he was just a depressed, introverted goose.
“Don’t worry, Uncle! We’ll spar with you iernoon!” An said, panipensating.
“Yeah! We’re just… a bit beaten up right now…” Matthew added, nervously patting Evan’s shoulder.
“We’ll get ready for your lesson!” Evan nodded, doing his best not to let his legs shake.
Immediately, the gothieral clouds evaporated. Isaiah’s aura shifted to that of a majestic garden goose deity, as if flowers might start blooming around his feet at any moment.
“Truly, thou art the fi of ds,” he sighed, smiling radiantly. His elegance made it almost too easy to believe he was reted to Madame Bunny. Long bck hair? Check. Graceful, effortless beauty? Check. Unreasonable levels of power? Check.
“If only the whelps in my care bore such promise…” Isaiah mented, recalling the three chaotic young dragons under his watayanika, Rinai, and Undagi. Those little menaces had made “arson” an art form.
But for now, he would cherish these polite, well-mannered children. At least they didn’t set things on fire just for fun.
"So, now it's finally our dear Princess' turn, yes?" Bunny reminded, rubbing Bir's head.
Bir lifted her head, only to be met with a smile so radiant it could blind lesser beings. The Madame—the most beautiful woman to ever exist, period, end of discussion—was smiling at her.
Her face ignited.
Fet the absurdly impressive uhe badass grandpa, the chaotic little sister, the drop-dead geous mother, and the frighteningly intimidating father.
No—the real anomaly here was Evan.
The fact that this boy could sit there, utterly unfazed, as his family operated like a theatrical fever dream on steroids was nothing short of supernatural.
If she married into this family…
Bir’s brain short-circuited. M-Married?!
Her entire face exploded in red.
No way. NO WAY. Who did she think she was?!
She wasn’t even worthy of breathing the same air as these divine beings, let alone dreaming of being part of them. She wasn’t a princess—she was barely aowledged as an illegitimate nobody!
A…
Everyone here is sooooo cool.
She wasn’t alone in that thought.
An and Matthew, sitting beside her, were also having their owential crises.
This wasn’t just some random wealthy mert family.
This was a of demigods in disguise, and they had walked straight into their domain.
“Let’s start with your favorite spell, Yhness.”
